


I Don't Want to Fight the Tide (I Don't Want to Swim the Ocean)

by awkwardCerberus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prisoner of War, Rescue Missions, Shatt, but Matt and Sam still kinda call them Katie for a lil bit, idk what else to tag this, shower kisses, tags like what ???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 19:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8026135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardCerberus/pseuds/awkwardCerberus
Summary: "...Where were you when I was lonesome?Locked away with freezing coldSomeone flying only stolenI can't tell this light so old..."
Or, Pidge gets their family back. Shiro gets his whole world back. But, maybe it isn't as happily-ever-as they had hoped.





	I Don't Want to Fight the Tide (I Don't Want to Swim the Ocean)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rest_In_Spaghetti_Never_Forgetti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rest_In_Spaghetti_Never_Forgetti/gifts).



> HAHAHA the holy Voltron shipping trinity is complete. I've been to Klance Hell, Shieth Hell, and with the help of tumblr and some friends, I'm now in Shatt Hell. Ha ha ha this is supposed to be a show about robots making bigger robots....not pAIN. I hope there's more Matt in season 2 bc he and Shiro need to Hug It Out™.
> 
> Title and summary are from "When It's Cold I'd Like to Die" by Moby because this song fits this fic so much it hurts.
> 
> And yes, another fic for my darling Shelby bc hell is better with friends.

Liberating Galra work camps was never easy. Both literally and figuratively. Although, the literal side was a lot less complicated than the figurative side.

Literally it was hard because the troops of Galran soldiers were so hellbent on keeping the prisoners in the camp that it seemed almost desperate. They'd get in groups and barricade doors, become last-second suicide bombers, and they took the expression "fight to the last man" a little too seriously.

Adding to that, was the massive network of caves, corridors, and cells. Some planets had multiple camps, but each one was huge in its own respects. If they hadn't become so reliant on all the BLIP-tech sensors, it would have been impossible to find all the prisoners.

The figurative side was a lot harder to overcome. Many of the prisoners had no clue what to do at that point. They had been prisoners so long that the thought of living a life outside a Galra camp was incomprehensible. A few even flat out refused to leave the planet, either out of fear or because it was all they knew. None of them had anywhere left to return to, and some even begged to be returned to the Galra.

It hit home for all of Team Voltron, and the aftermath was always somber.

Especially Pidge, who had a bad habit of jumping into liberation missions with higher hopes than they had to begin with, and leaving with a gaping hole in their heart. Always sprinting through corridors calling for their family at the top of their lungs, asking every prisoner who could understand them if they'd seen a Matt or a Sam Holt.

The answer was always no.

Well...almost always.

On the last command ship Pidge managed to hack, Allura picked up on a tidbit of information about the mining of some valuable crystals out in a deserted system. The crystals were apparently an important component for the wormhole drives in Galra ships, and if Voltron controlled even one of these rare crystal deposits, that would be a major stepping point.

It was an opportunity they could not miss.

What the information failed to provide, was that this camp was on a tiny, desolate, barren, moon that was so far out that the Castleship barely registered the coordinates. Nor were they given any intel on the moon itself.

It made the Sahara look like a boardwalk; there hadn't been anything liquid there...ever, really. The surface of the planet was all white sand and jagged rocks, the moon's weather a sweltering 130 degrees on the light side, and a freezing 10 degrees on the dark side.

Lance said it reminded him of when he learned about Hell in Sunday school.

Half the mining camp was on each side. Thankfully, being so far out, the amount of troops guarding it was relatively low, and the camp itself wasn't too big. Taking out the guards was alarmingly easy, but freeing the prisoners brought up unforeseen challenges.

The list of said challenges covered everything from prisoners too exhausted to keep up with the Paladins to the extreme temperatures messing with all the Paladin's gear.

The list of said challenges did not - however - include Matt and Sam Holt.

* * *

Pidge smacked their handheld map again, hating this stupid moon and its stupid hot and its stupid cold. Their map had been fritzing out since the second this mission started, and it was getting annoying. They had another level beneath them to check before they could call this section cleared.

They ran back to the mine's cargo lift and pressed (a little harder than necessary) the button to descend into the lowermost level. Pidge had been on the dark side of the moon the whole mission, and the upper levels were certainly freezing, but at least the lower levels were warmer (warmer meaning only a few degrees at at time). The lift stopped on level five, and they let out a disappointed huff. It was still barely 14 degrees - although, heat-regulating armor left no room for complaint.

"Pidge, this level appears empty - oh," Allura's voice was half static over the comm channel, "never mind. There's two signatures at the end of this corridor. Please be careful."

Pidge jumped off the left and hurried down the long tunnel. Only two people? Why hadn't they gone to the upper levels with the other prisoners? Why hadn't they evacuated when the other prisoners had? _Of course I had to get the hard job_ , Pidge thought pointedly.

The end of the tunnel was getting closer, and if Pidge strained, they could hear whoever was down there talking.

"Shh, do you hear that? I think someone's coming."

"Just...just stay behind me."

Pidge put their bayard away and started calling out to the dimly lit corridor, "I'm here to get you guys out! I'm a Paladin of Voltron, and we're here to - "

" _Katie_?"

Pidge skidded to a halt in the gravel, their heart hammering against their ribs and their skin prickling at the sound of their name. No one called them Katie anymore. The only people who still could still called them Katie were...

"Matt! Dad! It's really - I finally found..."

Their father was leaning against the wall, one hand cradling his side. It had only been three years since Pidge had last seen him, but it looked like he'd aged a decade. His short hair had all gone grey and was pulling back from his forehead.

Matt stood in front of his father, holding a broken piece of piping like a baseball bat. He was much skinnier than he'd ever been before; his gaunt face and sunken eyes made him look like a skeleton in the dimly lit mine. His hair, darkened now by dirt and grease, hung around his thin face in matted waves.

The prison uniforms they wore were almost identical to the one Shiro had worn, the only difference being that the purple shirts they had on over their black jumpsuits had long sleeves rather than short. However, being only about 14 degrees in this part of the mine, it didn't make much of a difference. They were both shivering, and the edges of Matt's lips were blue.

Sam craned his head to look over Matt's shoulder, "Katie, is it really you?"

Pidge threw off their helmet, tears streaming down their cheeks. They were completely ignoring anything the rest of the team was shouting into the comms, instead running at their brother and father and all three wrapping their arms around each other.

Pidge didn't want to let go ever again. Their hands dug into the fabric of their father and brother's uniforms, pressing their face into Matt's neck while their father hugged them from behind. When they would have a bad day when they were younger, Matt and Sam would always squish them in the middle of a "Katie Sandwich". It had been years since their last one, and Pidge wanted to hold onto this one for as long as they could.

"Katie, what are you doing here?" Matt asked, hands still planted on Pidge's shoulders, "you're supposed to be on Earth, not...wherever here is. And where's Mom?"

"Is this armor?" Sam rapped his knuckles on Pidge's chest plate and looked them up and down, one eyebrow raised suspiciously, "And when did you suddenly become a space paladin? Katelyn Beatrice Holt, I want an explanation this instant."

Suddenly, Keith started hollering through Pidge's helmet, "-idge! Where are - what's taking you so - need you up here right now - Pidge, come in!"

Pidge snatched their helmet up off the ground, shoving it back on their head and grabbing their father and brother by the wrists, "C'mon, we're getting out of here."

Matt and Sam trailed behind Pidge as fast as they could, following her to the lift. The tunnel seemed a lot longer now than Pidge had remembered it being, and the silence between the three of them was only broken when Pidge had to yell back at their team.

When they finally reached the small lift - as luck would have it - the controls had seized up. Pidge (who was still running on the all the adrenaline that finding their family had given them) held their hand to their side and summoned their bayard. They carved open a panel just under the control panel and yanked out a few wires, cursing under their breath as they sparked the wires together until the lift finally moved.

The Green Lion was still waiting at the entrance to the mine, having been left behind by the other four Lions when the fighting picked back up again. When Sam and Matt saw her, they both looked about ready to faint.

Green turned to them and lowered herself to the ground, mouth opening up to let her Paldin and their family into the cockpit. Warily, Matt and Sam followed after Pidge, jaws officially dropping when they saw the inside of the cockpit.

The second they were in the pilot's seat, Pidge was hammering the buttons on the communications controls, "Shiro! Shiro, I found them! I found my family!"

Shiro's channel was clearly open, and clearly transmitting, but there was still only silence from the other end. A hesitant, shocked silence that lasted anywhere from thirty seconds to an eternity, before finally, there was a response.

Shiro's voice was shaking, "Commander Holt?"

Another pause, this one shorter than the last. His voice cracked when it finally asked, "Matt..?"

"Shiro, I can't tell you how great it feels to hear your voice," Sam breathed out a long sigh of relief, smiling again and looking just as happy as he'd been when he saw Pidge.

"Shiro, it's you," Matt's throat was tight again, and he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to keep from sobbing again, "it's-it's really you..."

This time, it was Lance's channel that cut in, "okay okay, Pidge, I'm really happy for you, but reunion later, fight now!"

Matt had never been motion sick a day in his life, but when the Lion started moving, he felt much too dizzy. He took one look at the picture taped to the dashboard - the one he gave his little sister the last day he'd been on Earth, with his arm around her shoulders and both of them smiling and laughing and _happy_ \- and he felt like his legs would give out at any moment.

Since when had Katie - his baby sister who used to fall asleep in the dog bed snuggling with their golden retriever until she was nine, who used to glue her Barbie dolls to bottle rockets she was six so "they can be astronauts too", who got first place in the State Science Fair by creating a robotic hand that moved off of brainwaves when she was thirteen, _his baby sister who he was supposed to be watching out for_ \- become one of the defenders of the universe?

"Katie, you can barely drive the bumper cars at the fair! What are you doing piloting an alien spaceship?" Matt asked incredulously. He had to ask, he was about to go fucking crazy if he didn't do something, "you're fourteen, you're too young to be be a fighter pilot!"

Pidge slammed the controls forward and the Green Lion shot down several Galra fighters with the canon in her mouth. Their voice was flat when they spoke, but the weight of it still carried, "I'm seventeen now."

The statement was both blunt and sobering. Behind them, Pidge could practically feel the tension between their father and brother. Those three years they had been missing had caught up with them. Their sweet, passionate little Katie had become Pidge, the Green Paladin of Voltron right before their eyes.

Off in the distance, Hunk slammed the Yellow Lion into a small group of Galra fighters, and Shiro cut through the the last couple fighters with his Lion's jaw blade. Lance made a half-witty remark about what an easy victory that had been as Allura called them all back to the Castle.

The Lions drifted towards the Castleship, and the automatic docking protocols kicked in on their own. Pidge sat back in their seat and leaned over the side towards their brother.

"I guess I should give these back to you now." They clicked open a compartment on the underside of the dashboard and pulled out their glasses, "I had to kind of steal them to sneak into the Galaxy Garrison."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," their father quipped from the back of the cockpit.

Matt accepted the familiar pair of glasses with a small smile and a quiet "thanks". He'd completely forgotten he had a spare pair of glasses, and he hoped that putting them on would give him at least a shred of feeling like his old self. But that shred never came, and he was now very aware of the gaping hole that had been blown in his life.

Everyone had gathered in the Green Lion's hangar; they were all varying levels of nervous about finally getting back Pidge's family.

But Shiro wasn't nervous...no, he was terrified. The last time he had seen Matt, he slashed open his knee, tackled him to the floor and screamed at him about getting blood - he hadn't even stopped to think about if Matt had heard the "take care of your father" part. With Shiro's luck, he probably hadn't.

What if Matt thought Shiro had actually tried to kill him? What if Matt hated him? Or worse, what if Matt was scared of him? He used to read stories wherein people's happiness turned to fear and they began to hate the ones they used to love. He didn't want that to happen - not now, not after he finally had Matt back.

Green crouched down, and as the ramp folded down from her maw, time seemed to slow to a desperate crawl.

The first one out was Sam, a hand on Pidge's shoulder to steady himself as they walked of of Green, squinting in the bright lights of the hangar. He and Shiro met halfway, and Shiro hugged him like a son embracing his father.

Sam put a hand on Shiro's shoulder and looked up at him, already tearing up again as he spoke, "Matt told me what you did for him in the arena - volunteering yourself like that, sparing his life. Shiro, I cannot thank you enough. You saved my son."

Shiro felt like a one ton rock had been lifted off his chest. Matt had heard him, and maybe he didn't hate Shiro. Sam was smiling at him, and holding him, and _thanking_ him. There was still the chance that Matt forgave him.

"Commander Holt, I - "

The words stopped just beyond Shiro's lips. Something in the top of his peripheral vision moved; a thin, dark shape hovering near a white and green one. His heart stopped, and suddenly everything halted. The air in the hangar was suddenly frigid and stung his lungs.

Shiro looked up, his arms slid off of Sam's shoulders and his feet began moving of their own volition. Something black and purple was walking down from the Green Lion, a mop of brown hair and pale skin and hazel eyes.

The name slipped off his tongue without him even knowing it, "Matt..."

"Takashi!"

Before he could blink, Matt had vaulted across the space between them. He latched himself around Shiro, arms locking around his neck and his legs wrapping around Shiro's waist. Both their heads were buried in the other's necks, and they were sobbing in unison, clinging onto each other for dear life.

Then, they were kissing. Not just pecks on the forehead or on the cheek. No, they were _kissing_. Matt's hands were glued to Shiro's cheeks and neck, and their lips were never apart for more than half a second.

They kissed like they were starving and the other's lips were a feast. It was three years worth of missed love and absent touches all rolled up into one. The only time they paused was to whisper an "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry", or an "I thought you were dead, I was so scared".

Allura ran a finger under her eyes, "how absolutely touching," she whispered sincerely; the emotions of the moment finally reaching the other people in the room.

Shiro and Matt were still holding onto each other, the kissing having finally stopped. Instead they pressed their foreheads together, still crying silently and mumbling apologies and sweet nothings.

Sam put an arm around Pidge's shoulders, smiling a real smile for the first time in probably a long time. He clicked his tongue and nudged Pidge, "love is just the strongest thing in the universe."

"Yeah. It's super," Pidge grumbled under their breath, crossing their arms over their chest and staring at their feet. They reached up to adjust their glasses out of habit, but resorted to scratching their cheek when they remembered they'd given their glasses back to Matt.

Allura - after a few moments - took a step forward, nodding gracefully at Pidge and Sam, then at Shiro and Matt, "this has been a wonderful reunion, and I am truly happy Pidge was able to find their family. But, I'm sure that Matt and Sam have been through a great deal, and perhaps a few nights in the Castle's healing pods might do them good."

"I think that sounds like a marvelous idea," Sam agreed, nudging Pidge again and giving Allura a tired smile, "I always say, 'naps are good for the soul'."

Matt climbed down off of Shiro to walk, but he still stayed close by. Pidge, who was letting their father lean on them as they followed Shiro to the pods, was watching their brother like a hawk. They watched the way Matt's hand always firmly grasped Shiro's; or how, when they'd pass a dark hallway and Matt would tense up, Shiro would kiss the top of his head and murmur in his ear, and Matt's shoulders would relax just a bit.

Sam had been eager to step into a healing pod. He gave Pidge a kiss on the forehead and another long hug, promising to be out before they knew it before going into the pod.

The glass of the healing pod pixelated up around Sam and suddenly, Matt was screaming.

"N-No! No, I'm not going into one of those things!" His chest was heaving, and he looked like he might be sick, "get away from me!"

He shoved himself away from Shiro, the heel of one of his palms caught Shiro in the jaw hard enough to knock them both back a few steps. Matt misstepped and tripped over his own feet, slamming into the floor in an awkward roll. He pushed himself back against the small control pillar in the center of the room, curling up in a tight ball, burying his face in his knees, and clapping his hands over his ears.

Pidge took a cautious step towards their brother, but Shiro beat them to it. He knelt down next to Matt, but he stopped after that.

"Matt, it's me. It's Shiro," he kept his voice low, a whisper that was just loud enough for Matt to hear through his hands, "you're safe right now. No one is going to hurt you."

"I-I didn't - they can't - " Matt took his hands off his ears and brought his face up from his knees. He was completely terrified, "please, don't put me in solitary again. _Please_ , I didn't...didn't do anything..."

Across the room, Pidge's heart did a nose dive. They had seen the Galra's idea of solitary confinement in the prisons they'd freed: a one person, standing-room-only, metal slot in the wall without even so much as a slit in the door for light. It was like locking someone in a broom closet for a week.

Matt said "again" and Pidge felt like screaming, or punching something, or both. The Galra had taken their kindhearted, loving, big brother - who couldn't even kill a mosquito without feeling remorseful - _and they hurt him so much._

"No one is going to put you in solitary. You don't have to go into the pods if you don't want to, I promise," Shiro inched closer to Matt, but still somehow also kept his distance.

Matt was still looking up at Shiro with that fearful expression, but at least he'd stopped hyperventilating. Shiro delicately put his arm - his _Galra_ arm, Pidge noticed - around his shoulders.

"Do you want to go back to my room?" He asked softly, and pressed a kiss to Matt's temple.

Matt nodded blankly, and Shiro took his hand and stood them both up slowly. Matt pressed himself into Shiro's side, hugging his arms to his chest and staring adamantly down at his feet as Shiro led him out of the room with a hand between his shoulder blades.

Pidge, who had been silently watching Shiro take Matt away down the hall, chewed on the inside of their lip and looked over their shoulder at their father. He looked peaceful, sleeping in the healing pod, but Pidge still felt suddenly very alone. They fumbled with one of the clasps on their armor and toed at the floor with their boot for a few moments before walking out.

* * *

Shiro slid the door closed behind him and brought the room's lights up to sixty percent. His room was a little messier than he would have usually kept it: the bed unmade, his boots thrown haphazardly by the door, and his usual clothes dumped over the back of a chair.

Matt looked down at himself disdainfully, face crinkling at the over-worn prison uniform he'd never thought he'd ever stop wearing, "can I - " he stopped himself, feeling a small pang of guilt for even having to ask in the first place, "can I take a shower?"

"Of course. The bathroom's through there," Shiro nodded at the open door across from them.

Matt stepped into the small bathroom cautiously, but was a little shocked at how big it actually was. The shower was off to the right (one of those fancy, modern showers like the ones from the interior design magazines his mother used to read; a floor to ceiling glass door, a bench on one end, a huge shower head that hung down from the ceiling, and a small row of controls next to the soap dish), and the sink and toilet were over to the left. Everything was polished metal, and spotlessly clean - typical Shiro. Matt felt almost out of place.

"Take as long as you want," Shiro said from where he was standing behind Matt in the doorway, "there's shampoo and soap already in there and the controls are pretty self-explanatory. The towels just kinda come out of the wall when you're done - it's a little weird, I know."

Matt turned to face Shiro, one finger trailing absently over the insignia on his chest plate. For a while, Matt was silent and didn't look up from the pattern his finger was tracing.

Shiro brought his hand up - his flesh one, this time - and rested it gently on the side of Matt's jaw - is thumb making small strokes back and forth on the lukewarm skin. Shiro slid off Matt's glasses and set them next to the sink, and he realized for the first time all night that Matt's eyes weren't as vibrant as they used to be. He pressed a kiss to the furrowed space between Matt's eyebrows, letting his lips linger on the skin for a moment.

Matt took his hand off the armor and played with the frayed edge of his shirt; his hands paused on the threadbare fabric, before finally reaching over his head and tugging it off entirely. The black bodysuit beneath it had a patch on the left breast, a small, grey rectangle with a string of Galran characters that served as identification.

Shiro moved his hand off Matt's cheek to reach the suit's zipper on the back of his neck. He undid the small metal clasp but when he got to the small metal tab, Matt put a hand over Shiro's to stop him. He looked up at Shiro over the rims of his glasses and it almost hurt to look him in the eye. Matt felt like a teacup dangling precariously over the edge of a table, and if he said or did the wrong thing, he'd fall and shatter himself.

Matt had to stop and collect himself. He took Shiro's fingers in his own, and pushed the zipper down his back. He peeled the fabric off his skin, stepped out of the included boots, and pushed the small pile of clothes off to the side. Goosebumps rose up all across his bare skin, and Matt shivered with the change of air.

Shiro drew in a breath and tried very hard not look as shocked as he felt.

There were long, white scars crisscrossing like a labyrinth all along Matt's skin. Some of them were obvious in what they were from - the long, thin ones said whip, but the short, fatter scars said either club or baton. There were four, shallow, yet perfectly parallel rips on his right bicep that made rage boil up inside Shiro like molten rock.

But the one that held Shiro's eyes the longest, was a clean line along the side of Matt's left knee. It ran just a few inches above the top of his kneecap and stopped a couple inches below that, but Shiro stared at it like it was the Grand Canyon.

It was Matt's turn to put his hand on Shiro's cheek, and had to stand on his tiptoes to kiss the corner of Shiro's lips.

"Matt, oh God, I - I didn't want to - I-I swear," his voice was breaking and it felt like he was drowning in his own self-loathing, "I never meant to hurt you."

"You saved my life though. I was never angry with you, Shiro. They pulled us apart so fast I never got to thank you."

Matt placed his hands on Shiro's waist and craned up to reach his lips. Shiro's lips had always been warm and soft, a stark contrast to Matt's now cold and chapped ones. Matt's heart was hammering in his chest so hard he was scared his ribs might break, but he was too wrapped up in the moment to care.

The two pulled their lips apart, out of breath and leaning on the doorframe. Matt fell back on his heels and rested his forehead against Shiro's shoulder plate. His fingers trailed over the thick fabric of the body suit beneath Shiro's armor, the feeling of the cold armor against his skin (oh, right..Matt had forgotten he was still completely naked) made him shiver.

Matt hadn't even needed to say anything, but Shiro guided him over to the shower. He held the door open for Matt and reached across to the small panel of buttons and dials, pushing the buttons a couple times and turning a little red dial like it was an exact science.

The water came out, instantly perfectly warm, and Matt felt like his legs were made of jelly. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a warm shower, much less one with Shiro.

"I'll be in the bedroom," Shiro said, lightly easing the shower door closed.

"Stay," Matt half pleaded, voice quiet and eyes soft, his hand darting out to grab Shiro's before it could leave the door handle, "please."

Shiro nodded, his jaw going just a little slack as his heart took over for his mind. He hurriedly undid the clasps on his Paladin armor. His chest plates, arm and leg guards clunked onto the floor, followed quickly by the body suit and boots he almost tripped shimmying out of.

He stepped into the shower, perching a thumb under Matt's chin and tilting his face up to meet Shiro's. For a moment, they both stood there, hesitant to move.

And then all the years that had separated them caught up with them, and whatever affection they'd shared earlier in the hangar was suddenly inadequate.

Shiro's hands cupped Matt's cheeks and he closed the space between them instantaneously. He peppered Matt's lips with kisses, trying so hard to make up for lost time.

Matt's nails dug into the muscles of Shiro's abdomen as he pressed himself closer and closer. He leaned backwards until his shoulder blades were resting on the slick wall of the shower; Shiro's hands adjusted themselves until they were perfectly poised to hold Matt flush with himself, his metal hand curved in the small of Matt's back and his human hand slack against Matt's neck.

"I missed you so, _so much_ ," Matt whispered as Shiro's lips began to move down his neck, "I thought I'd never see you again."

"We never stopped...looking for you," Shiro breathed between kisses, "I love you, Matt. I love you, I love you so _fucking much_..."

Matt's hands were desperate, raking across Shiro's back and carding through his hair; one of his legs hooked around Shiro's like an anchor finding purchase. Shiro's teeth brushed against the tender skin on Matt's collarbone whenever he moved his lips, and it sent a shiver through both their spines.

Matt's head lolled down, his cheek nuzzling against Shiro's forehead while his lips pressed desperate kisses to Shiro's temple. The warmth of the steam and the water and this moment...Matt could have melted right then.

"Matt?" Shiro looked up from where he had been nibbling on the skin of Matt's clavicle, concern beginning to lace through his features, "Matt, you're shaking."

Matt stopped. Oh, he was.

Shiro carefully untangled the two of them, one hand still cautiously resting on Matt's shoulder. He guided the other over to the small bench in the corner, pushing hims down with just a finger. Matt squeezed the bridge of his nose - suddenly very tired.

"You should probably eat something," Shiro half suggested, half ordered.

He kissed the top of Matt's forehead and pushed open the shower door behind him. True to his word, a rack of towels slid out of the wall and Shiro slung one around his hips. He shoved the pile of armor and suit out into the bedroom with his foot, following after them.

Matt watched the door with a tired smile until Shiro ducked back in again, tugging a black vest over his shoulders. He walked over to the glass and pulled a small communicator out of his pocket.

"If you need anything," Shiro set the small commlink on the edge of the counter and nodded at it again, "don't hesitate to call me, okay? I'll be back in a few minutes."

He turned and walked out of the bathroom, and the door to the bedroom slid shut a second later.

* * *

Shiro walked out of the kitchen - a bowl of food goo in one hand, a mug of tea in the other, and a fresh set of clothes under his arm. Coran had a spare suit he'd been happy to give to Matt; this one was grey with a blue trim, and Coran was more than eager to explain the effectiveness of combining the pants and boots into one unit. But they weren't Galra prison uniforms, and they looked like they'd fit comfortably, and that was all Shiro really cared about.

Had he not looked up from his hands when he did, he would have walked right into Pidge. Shiro opened his mouth to apologize, but Pidge cut him off. They didn't even say anything, they just looked up at him - a roiling mix of disbelief and something that wasn't quite anger yet. They looked naked without their glasses.

"Pidge? Are you - "

"How come you never told me you were dating my brother?"

There was an edge to their question that Shiro hadn't been prepared for, and it dripped with accusation. Pidge was still glaring at him, their sharp eyes holding him locked in place. He couldn't blame them for being a little less than pleased.

"It never really came up."

Oh, shit. He really shouldn't have said that.

Pidge grew instantly livid. The corner of their lip twitched and the tips of the ears were turning a deep red. It was like watching a bomb about to go off.

"In the three years we've been a team - in the three years we were _both_ looking for my family - you never **_once_** thought to tell me that you and my brother were...were...fucking?"

Shiro almost took a literal step back, "Pidge! It isn't like that! We dated and had a relationship and - "

"You knew who I was the moment I told you Matt and Sam Holt were my family - you even put together that I was Katie before I even thought about coming out about it! And it didn't even occur to you to say that, 'oh, by the way, Katie, since we're talking about your real identity, I should tell you that your bother and I have been a couple for almost _five years_ '? That never ' _came up_ '?"

"Pidge, I'm sorry. I know I should have told you the second you said Matt was your brother - believe me, I should have - but I didn't know if we'd ever find him. I didn't want to hang our relationship on your shoulders like that if we couldn't."

"How long?" Pidge was shaking with rage. They wanted to take the metaphorical knife out of their back and stick it right in Shiro's, "how long were you and Matt together and neither of you decided to tell me?"

Shiro let out a breath, "before we left for Kerberos."

Pidge made a small squawk of disbelief in the back of their throat, but Shiro continued.

"We were going to tell you when we got back but, obviously, we never got the chance. Your father found out a few weeks after we left Earth."

He dropped his shoulders and tried look as apologetic as possible. He felt like he had just dumped a bucket of ice water on Pidge's shoulders without warning.

Pidge opened their mouth to say something several times, but never did. Finally, they looked down at their sneakers, fists balling and unballing at their sides, "I have stuff to work on."

They sidestepped Shiro and continued walking, disappearing as they turned into the hallway that led up to the bridge. A large part of Shiro wanted to drop everything and follow them; Pidge had put so much trust in him, as Paladins and as friends, and it felt like all that had just gone down the garbage chute.

But Shiro didn't chase after Pidge. He watched them until they rounded the corner, and then he stood there for another second, feeling a knife in his back, and then continued on towards his own room. He shifted the clothes under his arm so they were no longer slipping, and his human hand was growing sweaty from holding the hot mug.

But none of that mattered, because somehow he had been the nail driven between the Holt siblings.

When he got back to his quarters, Shiro couldn't even make it past the doorframe without being reminded of that.

Matt was sitting on the bed, wearing a pair of Shiro's sweatpants and one of his shirts, and it was obvious that he'd been crying. One of Matt's legs was dangling off the edge of the bed, and the other was curled up to his chest; the communicator Shiro had left with him was sitting on the bed next to him, blinking a soft blue light. Matt's face was buried in his palms and Shiro (who had never been particularly religious) was praying that what he thought was happening wasn't.

He immediately put the food and clothes on the desk and sat down next to Matt on the bed. Shiro pulled Matt into his shoulder, rubbing Matt's back slowly.

"You left your communicator on when you left," Matt mumbled into the collar of Shiro's vest.

So it was happening.

Shiro suddenly felt himself go from nail to wedge.

"So you heard all that?"

Matt nodded. He scooted out of Shiro's arms and backed up against the wall, taking his glasses off and cleaned them with the corner of a sheet. Shiro had turned to face him, but something in Matt refused to meet the other's eyes.

"She must hate me," he said lowly, weighted, like it was a confession someone had drawn out of him.

"They don't hate you," Shiro said - immediately and so sincerely that it felt as though he was trying to force Matt into believing it, "but a lot's happened in the last few hours. They'll need some time to adjust."

"Your right," Matt sighed and put his glasses back on, finally looking up at Shiro.

The Earth clock on the wall had slowly ticked down into the later hours, and the lights in the bedroom had dimmed automatically with the time. Even in the low, blue glow of the room, Shiro's eyes were still bright and warm; the cool grey had always been able to bring Matt back.

"I, uh, I brought you some tea. I have no clue what kind it is, but Hunk put a tag on it that said 'chill' so I guess it can't be that bad," Shiro stood up off the bed and walked over to the desk for the tea and the bowl of space goo. Matt took the mug gratefully, but he eyed the goo suspiciously. Shiro let out a small laugh and handed Matt a spoon, "it's not as bad as it looks, I promise."

Matt gave him a wry smile and poked the goo with the tip of the spoon; it jiggled placidly, "it can't be as bad as prison food."

Even if it did taste bad, Matt didn't slow down enough to taste it. The first bite hit his tongue and he suddenly realized how hungry he really was. The goo certainly wasn't his mother's buttered snow peas, but it was food. Matt ended up shoveling every last bite into his mouth without even a second thought.

"Whoa, slow down, Matt," Shiro pressed, nudging a napkin at Matt.

The spoon clinked against the bottom of the now empty bowl, and Matt wiped the corners of his lips with the napkin. He gave Shiro a small smile, one that was both grateful for the meal and apologetic for his less-than-proper manners. Shiro took the bowl from his lap, his fingers brushing Matt's as he did.

The mug in his hands had cooled down enough to were it was drinkable, and Matt was glad to finally get something warm to drink. The tea had a muted fruity flavor that reminded him a little bit of watermelon. He sipped at the tea, silently focusing on the pink-and-orange-swirled liquid (he only ever looked up at Shiro when he was positive he wouldn't be noticed, and if he was, his eyes would immediately shoot back down to his tea).

Matt took the final sip of his tea, still staring down at the teabag that clung wetly to the side of the mug. A little stream of pink tea was puddling in the bottom of the mug, and he watched the tiny grains of orange swim around in a tiny pool.

Shiro's hands came down gently around Matt's, his thumbs rubbing back and forth in circles on the skin. Matt looked up at Shiro over the rims of his glasses and his heart hurt. His throat was tight and the back of his eyes began to burn. He had missed too much. The people he loved had changed so much, it felt like he was standing still and they were all running past him.

"Matt?"

Matt blinked, refocusing his attention back on Shiro and trying to ignore the gnawing feeling that the world had left him behind.

Shiro took the mug from their hands and put it on the nightstand behind him. When he turned back, he put a hand on the side of Matt's neck, his thumb gingerly stroking the corner of Matt's jaw.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, knowing full well that was probably the absolute stupidest question he should have asked right then (although he had no clue what else to ask).

"No," Matt laughed humorlessly; he took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, "but I just want to go to bed right now."

Shiro nodded, giving Matt a smile that he hoped wasn't as resigned as it felt to give. He slid Matt's glasses out of his hands and put them on the nightstand next to the empty mug. When he turned back, Matt had already laid down and pulled the blankets around himself.

He looked up at Shiro, eyes half-lidded and yawned. It felt like they were back on Earth for just a second - when they had been so young and so love struck that they could live through anything as long as they had the other to kiss good night at the end of the day.

Shiro settled in next to Matt, put his flesh arm around Matt's waist, and closed his eyes. After a few minutes, his breathing evened out slowly, and Matt knew he was already asleep. Sleep sounded absolutely beautiful at the minute, and Matt felt so tired he was amazed that he was still able to keep his eyes open. But something was keeping him awake, although whether it was his own fears or the last bits of adrenaline, he wasn't sure.

His dad used to tell him to name off the elements on the periodic table until he fell asleep, but that was when he was twelve.

Instead, Matt found himself carefully focusing on Shiro - on all the little features he hadn't known he had forgotten about. How his eyelashes fluttered when his eyes twitched, the nearly faded scar on the bottom of his chin from when he'd floated into the cockpit door during zero gravity training, the little freckle next to his left eyebrow...the giant scar that branched across the bridge of his nose.

Shiro rolled over onto his other side, mumbling incoherently and pressing his face into Matt's neck. His human arm was still draped across Matt's side, but his Galra arm was hanging over the side of the bed at an odd angle.

A small blush rose up Matt's cheeks, and he kissed the top of Shiro's forehead, letting out a soft sigh, "okay...hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium..."

* * *

_Matt woke up when one of the other prisoners accidentally smacked him in the ribs with their antennae. That wasn't a new thing, it happened a lot - it was fifteen prisoners to a cell, and since the cells had no furnishings, everyone tended to sleep in a big pile on the floor. He rolled over onto his side, tucked a arm under his head, and tried to go back to sleep._

_The door to the cell slammed open abruptly, and everyone jolted awake. The warden for that cell block (one of the prison's few female guards. She was tall with dark purple skin and hair, and although she was slender, she had a muscular build. Her voice was harsh and deep, despite her appearance) stood in the doorway, chewing the inside of her cheek irritably._

_She set her hands on her hips and looked across the cell at Matt, "prisoner 121-8309. Come with me."_

_Matt stood up hesitantly, trying not to step on anyone as he walked towards the door. The other prisoners whispered behind his back as he walked; Sam Holt was more terrified now than he had ever been as he watched Matt walk towards the warden - nothing good ever happened when a single prisoner was called out._

_Sam rose to his knees, eyes darting between the warden and his son, "Matt, what - "_

_"I didn't call for you! Sit back down!" The warden yelled, one hand moving to the grip of the pistol at her side._

_Matt looked over his shoulder at his father as the guard came forward and clamped a pair of cuffs on his wrists. He gave Sam a soft smile and whispered, "I'll be okay, Dad."_

_The restraints locked his arms behind his back and the guard prodded Matt in the back with their rifle. The door slammed shut as the three of them walked down the hall._

_The overhead lights dimmed in the later hours, and flushed the stone walls of the mine in a dejected grey-purple. They walked past an air vent and Matt shivered hard; this half of the mine was already freezing, and the air circulators didn't help that._

_He'd heard horror stories from the other prisoners about how the workers on the hotter side of the moon would drop dead like flies from heat exhaustion, or how the lower levels got so hot that some of the machinery would melt. He should really count himself grateful - at least in the cold, the work warmed you up - but then again, on the cold side of the mine, prisoners would freeze to death in their sleep and frostbite was simply another part of the routine._

_In front of him, the warden pressed her gloved hand to a control panel by a large door and stood to the side while the door hissed open. The guard butted Matt between the shoulders again, and he walked through the doors._

_Matt walked out onto a large balcony several stories above a large gladiatorial arena. There were huge gate on either side of the arena, and several pillars at random places in the ring. Several feel below the balcony, rows of seating wrapped around the colosseum; one side taken up by prisoners and the other side by Galra officers and soldiers alike._

_An announcer's voice thundered throughout the arena in a language Matt couldn't understand - presumably Galra. One of the gates on the side of the ring began opening and the crowd went absolutely nuts. A small black dot walked out into the ring, and the crowd began chanting over and over "Champion! Champion! Champion!"_

_Matt thought he was going to faint. He leaned over the balcony rail and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Shiro! It's Matt! It's me, Taka— "_

_He was cut off by a rifle butt in the ribs, and he doubled over at his warden's feet._

_"I can't believe they called me out of bed for this," she spat. She reached down and grabbed him forcefully by the collar, hauling him up to his feet._

_Shiro was walking circles around the ring, hooked sword in hand and pumping his fists excitedly in the air. Matt could barely see past his own nose without his glasses, but he could swear he could swear Shiro was smiling._

_The other gate began to swing open and the crown went wild once again. Two guards were pushing struggling figures out into the ring; one of them was another prisoner, but the other was just a small blob in a lavender dress._

_The warden pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked the cuff on one of Matt's wrists. She nudged a pair of binoculars at him harshly, "they told my you were as blind as a sercarian mulch worm, and to give you these."_

_Matt took the binoculars eagerly, scanning across the ring at Shiro the moment he had them in his hand. He hated looking at it, but he was right. Shiro was smiling, ear to ear, like a kid at Christmas._

_The announcer yelled something else, and the crowd cheered as Shiro adjusted the sword on his arm, dropping into a fighting stance. The guards took the handcuffs off the other two people and shoved them forward._

_The purple one was tugging on the prisoner's arm and trying to get them to move, but they wouldn't. Shiro was getting closer to them, the blade in his hands shining like his wicked smile._

_The prisoner put their hands out, trying to pacify Shiro, but the crowd had started booing. The prisoner turned to look at the purple one... Matt's heart stopped._

_That wasn't just some random prisoner, that was his father. His father, who he'd seen not even ten minutes ago._

_But if that was his father, then the purple one was..._

_"Katie!" Matt was screaming at his sister and his father so loud he thought his throat would burst, "Dad! Get out - "_

_The guard his him harder this time, but he barely felt it. He was too absorbed in the fight. What had the Galra been thinking? Shiro would never hurt Sam and he'd never hurt Katie - although he'd never actually met Katie, Matt and his father had talked about her until they were blue in the face. He was just putting on an act until he could help them escape._

_But, he wasn't. This wasn't an act._

_Sam pushed Katie away from Shiro, and she ran behind one of the pillars. Shiro grabbed one of Sam's arms and threw him to the ground, the sword discarded in the dust beside him. His father wasn't even fighting back._

_He just laid there, arms splayed out to the side while Shiro brought his fist down on his face again and again and again. The crowd whooped and applauded as Sam's face became less flesh and more blood. The worst part was that Shiro keep smiling._

_Katie peered around the pillar and screamed. She fell to her knees in the dirt, still screaming and reaching for her father. On the inside Matt was yelling at her to 'run, stop sitting there like a deer in the headlights, Katie, run!' but he didn't dare say it out loud._

_Shiro crawled off Sam (who wasn't moving, oh God, why wasn't he moving?) and pulled his blade up out of the dust. His chest heaved from the adrenaline rush and blood dripped off his knuckles. His hand flexed and relaxed around the handle, holding the sword like it was an extension of his own hand._

_Katie was pleading with him, long litanies of "please stop" and "please don't do this". But Shiro was ignoring her. He held the sword high over his head, like an executioner before a supplicant criminal._

_As though being there wasn't horrible enough to, Katie looked at Matt. Out of the thousands of bodies in the stands, and rather than look at the man who was about to kill her, she looked all the way up at her big brother. Her big hazel eyes begging him to come save her like he always did when she was in trouble._

_But he didn't move, he didn't cry, he didn't do a damn thing. Matt just stood there and watched as the man he loved brought a blade down on his baby sister's neck._

* * *

Matt bolted up so fast he hit his head on the overhang above the bed. His heart was racing a thousand miles an hour and his stomach was in his throat. He was gasping for air like he was about to suffocate. But the worst part - the absolute worst part - was that he could still remember it all so vividly.

Shiro sat up in bed next to him, doing that thing he did where he stayed close but also kept his distance, "Matt, I need you to breathe. Slow, deep breaths with me."

Matt was trying to get himself under control, but it wasn't working. He was focusing on Shiro's slow counting and he kept reminding himself that nothing was real. He tried focusing on the small details in the few few around him, or on the quiet hum of the ship, but it just wasn't working.

"Shiro - I-I can't - "

Matt put his hand on the wall and tried to climb out of bed over Shiro's legs. But the tangled sheets and small space hadn't helped him any. His legs were refusing to work properly, and he only ended up tripping and falling onto the floor.

He crawled over to the the nightstand and groped around for his glasses. When he finally found them, he put them on hastily and stood up much to fast. His legs were still shaking and he was scared he was going to throw up right at Shiro's feet.

"Matt, please. Sit down and - "

"No, I can't - I can't right now," Matt stumbled across the room towards the door. It slid open, but he had to balance himself on the doorframe, "just - I just need some time. I'll-I'll be back, but not...not now."

He pushed himself out into the dark hallway, squinting in the darkened lowlights and trying to find out where to walk. The door slid shut behind him and the shadows seemed to reach out for him. Matt realized he had probably made a very bad decision, considering that he was now alone in a ship that he had no clue where anything was.

A light to his right flickered and he almost jumped out of his skin. _It's just a light bulb. They're just shadows. No one is here but you_ , he repeated to himself over and over again as he turned down a corridor and started walking.

  
According to the Castleship's Earth clock, it was almost three in the morning when Matt wandered onto the bridge. He was still a little out of it, a mix of tiredness and fear pushing him to be doing anything other than sleep.

But he did know with certainty that this was not Shiro's room.

Great. Just great. He hadn't even been on the ship for twelve hours and already he'd gotten himself utterly lost. And he couldn't retrace his steps because - quite honestly - he didn't remember half of them.

Matt was about to turn an walk out when he heard a quiet, "no, don't - ugh, dammit" coming from one of the corners of the bridge. He'd recognize that irritated grumbling anywhere, and walked over to the green control chair at the other end of the room.

Pidge was sitting in the chair sideways, feet dangling over one side with a laptop propped up against their legs and holographic displays surrounding them. There was a small Galra drone on the floor, halfway disassembled and with a web of cords leading from the drone to the laptop.

"Uh...Katie?"

Pidge looked up from their multitude of displays at their brother, "oh, hey Matt. What are you doing up here?"

Matt looked down at the floor; he must look like a wreck. His hair was undoubtedly messing considering he just rolled out of bed; he was wearing Shiro's shirt and a pair of his sweatpants, and both hung off of Matt's hunger-pang frame; he was barefoot, he just now realized, and he could tell his glasses were crooked on his nose. He fumbled with the ends of his sleeves.

"I just..." _I just woke up screaming because I'm terrified that everything was a dream and I'm still a Galra slave and Shiro killed you and Dad in a gladiator match_ , "Couldn't sleep is all. Why are you still up so late?"

"Late? It's not late. It's only - " Pidge leaned backwards over the other side of their chair to check the Earth clock (03:37), "okay, technically it's early."

Matt gave them a tired smile and sat down on the floor by Pidge's shoulders. The ship was a lot quieter than he'd expected, the engines barely hummed, and there were no soldiers walking through the the halls, or voices talking a room over. It was...eerie, almost. It sent a shiver up his spine; quiet had always been a thing to be feared in the Galra prisons.

"Katie?" He eventually asked, needing to focus on something other than the clacking of keys or the off-putting silence, "can we talk?"

"About what?"

"I overheard you and Shiro arguing in the kitchen. It was an accident, I promise - he gave me a communicator in case I needed anything, but he left his on," Matt felt like he was unloading on Pidge - he always hated unloading things on other people, "I know it's a lot to process, and it's my fault for not telling you sooner."

Pidge clicked their laptop closed and twisted their shoulders to face their brother, "Matt, you're my big brother - you're my family. But, Shiro is also kinda like my family too. I didn't know you guys were a thing until just a few hours ago, and he never talked about it. It's just...weird...finding out that one of my family has been in love with another one for so long and I was in the dark the whole time."

Matt was silent. What did you say in a situation like this?

"We were going to tell you. We were going to tell everyone. Mom and the mission staff had a welcome back party planned for when we got back home, and we were going to come out to everyone then - well, except for Dad; he already knew."

Matt sighed quietly, a knot coming back in his throat for the umpteenth time. He looked down at his hands, realizing that this was actually a lot harder than he'd anticipated. It was hard trying to remember that all that was three years ago; that old life either felt like it had happened yesterday, or it happened an eternity ago - there was no in between.

Right now, it felt like the eternity.

Matt continued, still focused on twiddling his thumbs, "it was supposed to be great. We'd been dating since astronaut training. I guess we were just waiting until we were really serious, although - "

"Matthew Holt, shut the fuck up."

"Wha- _Katie!_ "

"No, shut up and listen to me," Pidge slid out of their chair and stepped in front of her brother. She bent down until their faces were only a few inches apart - something only their mother did when she was serious, "do you love Shiro?"

"I-I..."

"Nah-ah! Do you love Shiro?"

Matt nodded quickly, "with all my heart, yeah."

"And does he love you?"

Again, Matt nodded, "of course, but - "

Pidge leaned back on their heels and shrugged. They gave their brother a one-sided grin and put their hands on their hips, "I guess that's that, then."

They sat down next to Matt, shoving their hands in the pocket of their hoodie and resting their head on Matt's shoulder. For a moment, Matt was utterly taken aback; he stared down at his hands while his mind ran a long blank.

"Matt, I looked for you and Dad for three years. At one point, I almost abandoned Voltron to go off and look for you. I tore apart every Galra prison from here to Heaven trying to find you two," Pidge's voice was quiet, sincere (if Matt closed his eyes and focused only on their voice, it felt like he was back at home for a second), "I'm not gonna risk losing you again because of who you choose to fall in love with. And if that's Shiro then...I guess I'll adjust. That's what scientists do, right? Adjust to new information?"

Matt smiled warmly and put an arm around Pidge; he hadn't realized how much he missed this. Although now he just felt stupid for thinking that Pidge - his little sister, of all people - would be angry at him for loving Shiro. He wanted to kick himself, but instead, he kissed the top of Pidge's hair.

"Can I talk to you about something else?"

"Sure."

"Do you want me to call you 'Pidge'? You'll always be Katie to me, but everyone else calls you 'Pidge', and I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

They smiled, "'Pidge' is fine. I just used it as a fake name to get into the Garrison. But I guess now, I'm just kind of used to it."

"Alright then, _Pidge_."

Matt pressed another kiss into Pidge's hair. They weren't his baby sister anymore, they were all grown up, and he was so proud of them. But, no matter how badass they were, or regardless of whether or not they were one of the greatest Paladins in the universe, he was glad to have them as family.

Out of no where, Matt giggled under his breath, and Pidge looked up at him, surprised, "what's so funny?"

"Okay, I get having to change your name to sneak into the Garrison," Matt looked down at them and raised an eyebrow, still smiling, "but, why did you use our dog's name?"

Pidge elbowed Matt in the side, both of them laughing quietly in the silence of the ships's bridge, "you're lucky you're my dorky brother."

"At least I didn't name myself after a dog."

"Nerd."

"Geek."

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

**Author's Note:**

> This was unbeta'd, so mistakes are mine.
> 
> Also I got the "Pidge is named after their dog" thing off tumblr and it was too cute to pass up.
> 
> Okay so I had to do the boyfriend math because all the dates were getting mixed up in my head, so we have:  
> —Google says astronaut training takes 2 years, plus probably another year for all the science and mission training  
> —The show said 1 year for the Kerberos mission  
> —Another year in prison  
> NOT counting the three years I personally added into this fic, they'd have been together 5 years give or take.


End file.
